u!" said he, solemnly.

Not a word more was spoken. The lord chief justice had silently followed
a sign from Gardiner, and touching Anne Askew with his staff, ordered
the soldiers to conduct her thence.

With a smile, Anne Askew offered them her hand, and surrounded by the
soldiers and followed by the Bishop of Winchester and the lord chief
justice, walked erect and proudly out of the room.

The courtiers had divided and opened a passage for Anne and her
attendants. Now their ranks closed again, as the sea closes and flows
calmly on when it has just received a corpse. To them all Anne Askew was
already a corpse, as one buried. The waves had swept over her and all
was again serene and bright.

The king extended his hand to his young wife, and, bending down,
whispered in her ear a few words, which nobody understood, but which
made the young queen tremble and blush.

The king, who observed this, laughed and impressed a kiss on her
forehead. Then he turned to his court; "Now, good-night, my lords and
gentlemen," said he, with a gracious inclination of the head. "The feast
is at an end, and we need rest."

"Forget not the Princess Elizabeth," whispered Archbishop Cranmer, as he
took leave of Catharine, and pressed to his lips her proffered hand.

"I will not forget her," murmured Catharine, and, with throbbing heart
and trembling with inward dread, she saw them all retire, and leave her
alone with the king.

CHAPTER VI. THE INTERCESSION.

"And now, Kate," said the king, when all had withdrawn, and he was again
alone with her, "now let us forget everything, save that we love each
other."

He embraced her and with ardor pressed her to his breast. Wearied to
death, she bowed her head on his shoulder and lay there like a shattered
rose, completely broken, completely passive.

"You give me no kiss, Kate?" said Henry, with a smile. "Are you then yet
angry with me that I did not comply with your first request? But what
would you have me do, child? How, indeed, shall I keep the crimson of my
royal mantle always fresh and bright, unless I continually dye it anew
in the blood of criminals? Only he who punishes and destroys is truly
a king, and trembling mankind will acknowledge him as such. The
tender-hearted and gracious king it despises, and his pitiful weakness
it laughs to scorn. Bah! Humanity is such a wretched, miserable thing,
that it only respects and acknowledges him who makes it tremble. And
people are